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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26119783">An Ending, a Beginning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/klytae/pseuds/klytaemnestra'>klytaemnestra (klytae)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Midgar Blues - A Collection of Shinra Noir [19]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:01:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,950</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26119783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/klytae/pseuds/klytaemnestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rufus Shinra thinks how he must have failed his city, as he failed Tseng, and accepts that this is to be his legacy, the failed ruler to a dying empire, as the darkness takes him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rufus Shinra/Reeve Tuesti, Rufus Shinra/Tseng</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Midgar Blues - A Collection of Shinra Noir [19]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915873</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Ending, a Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rufus Shinra opens his eyes to darkness, his throat burning with the choking fumes of smoke, and dust, face wet with blood or tears, and when he tries to cry out nothing comes forth except a dry croak. He can feel the heat of flames, the sharpness of glass beneath his fingertips, and the chill of the night air cold against his torn flesh. He draws in a shuddering breath, and suddenly feels as if he’s suffocating. A collapsed lung. He wants to laugh, to scream, at this hopeless pitiful circumstance. He can hear the faint sound of helicopters in the distance, the wail of sirens, and accepts that he has been left here, presumed dead by all those who might care, pinned beneath the wreckage.</p><p> </p><p>The cruelty that he has been denied a swift death, left to slowly asphyxiate on fumes, bleeding out all across what once had been polished marble floors. It is no less than he deserves, having helped usher in the end of the world through Shinra’s vanity, paying in blood the sins of his father. Midgar. He thinks how he must have failed his city, as he failed Tseng, and accepts that this is to be his legacy, the failed ruler to a dying empire, as the darkness takes him.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus wakes again to darkness, and when it does not lift, he feels the creeping dread of panic. His wrists are immobilized, and he knows with a certainty that he can no longer feel his legs. He can breathe again, though, his lungs expanding with deep, even breaths as he tries to will himself to focus, to push the terror that has sent his pulse racing down, even as he begins to envision any number of scenarios. And for one brief moment he fears, mind reeling with a type of madness, that this is his fate, his punishment for his failures, and his family’s misdeeds, Gaia’s final, lasting revenge on the man who has brought about her destruction, trapped somewhere between the Lifestream for all eternity, alone.</p><p> </p><p>It takes all his willpower not to scream then, at the prospect of everlasting isolation with only the damning words of his father to keep him company, reminding him of his failures, inadequacies. He strains against the bonds again, when he hears the muffled sound of voices. So not alone, but he knows that does not necessarily mean his situation has improved. He thinks he must be a hostage, a prisoner kept. That, at least, he has the training to withstand, though he fears now that he might break beneath any torture.</p><p> </p><p>The voices dissipate after a while, leaving him once again alone.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus remains silent, listening for any noise that might lend some clarity to the nature of his circumstances. He knows that he is not dead, but little else.</p><p> </p><p>After a time, he hears the familiar sound of footsteps, and tenses, throat seizing with a fear that seems nearly foreign. He freezes when the door swings open on rusty hinges, and prays to any deity that might hear him that he still appears to be unconscious.</p><p> </p><p>‘I keep hoping you’ll wake up.’ The voice is familiar, genial, though he struggles to place it. ‘But maybe you don’t want to. I doubt anyone would begrudge you, Sir, if you didn’t come back.’ There’s the sound of a chair scraping across flooring, a sigh. ‘I heard from Barrett today. They’re making efforts to help with the recovery. Seems like AVALANCHE doesn’t much care if you’re former Shinra or not any longer.’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus counts his breaths.</p><p> </p><p>‘I guess I should apologize for being a triple agent, not that I think you care much either now.’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus thinks he could laugh. Reeve Tuesti. Why the fuck is he here? The sound that emits from his throat is nothing more than a rasp, before he’s seized by a coughing fit. There’s the cool drip of liquid into his mouth, a warm hand supporting the back of his neck as Reeve helps him to drink.</p><p> </p><p>‘Careful.’ The words are filled with genuine concern, and for the briefest of moments it’s too much for Rufus to process that anyone might actually care about his well being in the wake of whatever has happened to the Planet. Reeve lowers him gently, feels him propping him against pillows, and then.</p><p> </p><p>‘I’m sorry for restraining you, Sir. You were fitful and I was worried you’d hurt yourself.’ Reeve undoes the shackles at his wrists, and Rufus’ hands immediately fly to his face, fingertips brushing against the wrapped bulk of a bandage wound about his head. That same creeping panic he felt upon awakening returns.</p><p> </p><p>‘Your eyes, stay calm.’ The statement makes Rufus want to do anything but. There are hands on the side of his face then, gently unwinding the gauze. He winces, the faintest light painfully bright. And when they have finally adjusted, Rufus sees only vague shapes, shadows and light in his right eye. The other is filled with a murky black void.</p><p> </p><p>‘Can you see me?’</p><p> </p><p>‘No.’ The word escapes Rufus with more hostility than he’s intended.</p><p> </p><p>He hears Reeve mumble something that sounds a lot like, ‘As I feared.’ before he takes his head back in his hands as if to examine his eyes. ‘The doctor didn’t know if he could salvage your left eye, but the right should be--’</p><p> </p><p>‘What happened?’ His voice is rough with days of disuse. But he still manages to remain somehow dignified despite everything, hands settling just so against the sheets, unseeing eyes focusing on the place where he suspects Reeve is.</p><p> </p><p>He feels the weight of Reeve, as he settles against the side of the bed. ‘What do you remember?’</p><p> </p><p>For a moment Rufus finds himself hard pressed to draw an accurate memory of the events that have led him here. He remembers moving the cannon to Midgar, the Weapons threatening to wreak destruction onto Junon, Midgar--</p><p> </p><p>A flash of white, and then nothingness. The choking fumes of smoke, the darkness that enveloped him, the distant sound of rotary wings, sirens.</p><p> </p><p>‘What happened to Midgar?’ The dread that fills him now is so different from the fear he had felt for himself.</p><p> </p><p>‘Sir.’ He begins, seeming to reconsider after a moment, as if taking in the vision of Rufus Shinra before him, weakened and defeated, and for the first time ever, terrified. He draws in a breath, brushes a hand through silken blonde hair, and assures him, ‘The people are safe.’ It’s a kindness, and Rufus knows it.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus nods once, and very quietly acknowledges, ‘My city is gone.’</p><p> </p><p>Reeve leaves him there alone to process this development, and also to mourn. And when he returns later that evening with a bowl of rice, he looks at Rufus propped up in bed, staring at where he assumes his hands must be, and feels the smallest twinge of pity.</p><p> </p><p>‘Careful, you still have an IV.’ Reeve reaches out to press his fingers to the bulk of medical tape, lingering briefly against the faint scars along his wrist. He knows better than to ask, but it fills him with a low ache that the most powerful man on the planet had once tried to rid himself of that burden. ‘It’s not much, but you need to eat something.’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus fumbles with the chopsticks, but Reeve says nothing, watching the former President of Shinra’s determination.</p><p> </p><p>‘I can’t feel my legs. But I’m assuming you already know that.’</p><p> </p><p>Yes. ‘Your spine was broken sir. The doctor did what he could, but.’ It will require time, time and patience, and enough cure materia to heal a behemoth. Fortunately, Reeve has kept a few fully mastered materia on hand. He’s grateful for it, accepting Rufus Shinra would have never survived that first terrible night without them.</p><p> </p><p>He brings him hot tea, and Rufus wryly asks if he might be able to spare something stronger.</p><p> </p><p>‘As a matter of fact, Sir. I did find a bottle stashed away here.’</p><p> </p><p>‘And where <em> exactly </em> is here?’</p><p> </p><p>‘Kalm, Sir.’</p><p> </p><p>They both know Rufus is in no state to drink, but neither seem to care. It’s a mid-tier vodka from Midgar, something usually reserved for cocktails, rarely recommended to be drunk straight, but in the wake of the end of the world, they don’t have the luxury to be particular.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus is a glass in, when he begins to list ever so slightly, his hand still wrapped firmly around it. ‘Why did you save me?’ His voice is low, brows knitted together as if he is finally at once processing everything that has transpired.</p><p> </p><p>To this, Reeve has no answer.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus draws in a shuddering breath. ‘I don’t suspect I have to tell you--’</p><p> </p><p>Reeve reaches out to settle his hand against Rufus’ reassuringly. ‘I know about Tseng.’</p><p> </p><p>‘No.’ He watches as Rufus wrenches his hand away, eyes struggling for a moment to find somewhere to focus as his face seems to contort into a sudden mask of pain. Reeve had witnessed the events at the Temple firsthand, knows that Rufus himself had ordered the mission knowing the risks.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus’ shoulders drop, glass slipping from his fingers to shatter against the wooden floor. ‘Shiva, why would you save me?’</p><p> </p><p>And in that moment, Reeve understands. Rufus had faced down Diamond Weapon, 70 floors up, alone, with the intention to save his city or die.</p><p> </p><p>That night, Reeve swears he can hear the muffled screams of rage and sorrow, as the man who had owned the world comes undone 2 doors down the hall, and accepts that he was never quite cut out to deal with Shinra, least of all whatever is left of its former President.</p><p> </p><p>Reeve comes to Rufus again in the morning, this time with coffee, and a bit of toast.</p><p> </p><p>‘I’m not used to breakfast in bed.’ There’s the slightest sliver of a smile, and for a moment Reeve dares to open his mouth to make a quip about Tseng, thinks better of it, and is suddenly very thankful for Rufus’ loss of vision.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus sips the steaming coffee, and adds. ‘I’m not really used to breakfast.’</p><p> </p><p>Reeve thinks to Rufus’ schedule, the President was one of the few who worked as late as he, often later, far into the night even as Reeve packed up his belongings and caught a late night bus back to his apartment in Sector 8. So few ever have given Rufus the credit owed to him, and as Reeve sits there watching the former President nibble at his toast, he considers how in many ways Rufus is the one to have saved the people of Midgar, even if he failed in saving himself.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus is less hostile during the day, though he remains for the most part bedridden. Reeve doesn’t bother him much, only checking in from time to time. He’s grateful that Rufus does not seem to wish to press him for further details concerning the state of Midgar and the planet, and when he does, Reeve prefers to remain as vague as possible.</p><p> </p><p>‘You’ve not heard from Reno or Rude--’ It’s not a question as much as a statement, Rufus seemingly accepting that his Turks had failed to make it out of Midgar alive. He’ll mourn them too in time, but right now he tries to simply focus on acclimating to whatever is to be his own reality in the aftermath of Reeve’s inability to leave him to die amid the ruins of his city.</p><p> </p><p>Communications are down, Reeve assures. There’s no reason to believe the Turks to have not survived, yet he chooses to not give Rufus a false sense of hope, only pragmatic responses, though if anyone were to have survived Meteorfall it would be Reno, and Rude, and Elena.</p><p> </p><p>One morning Reeve finds Rufus staring out the window at his bedside off into the distance at the grey wreck that was the Midgar skyline, and feels some relief in knowing that Rufus’ vision in his good eye has finally returned. He says nothing, instead closing the door quietly behind him, hoping Rufus had been too engrossed in the unfamiliar sight to have noticed his presence.</p><p> </p><p>When he returns later, with a fresh cup of coffee, Rufus is still there. Eyes set intently on the ruins.</p><p> </p><p>‘Have you seen it?’</p><p> </p><p>‘Sir?’</p><p> </p><p>‘My city, have you seen it?’</p><p> </p><p>Reeve swallows, dark eyes carefully watching Rufus. Yes, he has seen it. The upper plate decimated, the Shinra building missing its upper levels, a few mid-level floors having collapsed in on themselves, skyscrapers toppled like a child’s building blocks, entire sectors nothing more than twisted steel, and brick, and concrete. He curses himself for placing Rufus in a room with an unobstructed view.</p><p> </p><p>'You've got your vision back?'</p><p> </p><p>'Answer the question, Tuesti.'</p><p> </p><p>He falters, gaze dropping to the mug in hand. 'I have.'</p><p> </p><p>'It's gone isn't it?'</p><p> </p><p>'Yes.'</p><p> </p><p>Reeve braces himself for an outburst, anger, that he can deal with, but he's wholly unprepared when Rufus suddenly curls into himself, head lowered, and once again says, 'Why would you save me?' In that moment, he understands that for Rufus this is the ultimate cruelty.</p><p> </p><p>'Rufus.' He thinks to that boy he had seen wandering the upper floors during his first months at Shinra, the way his father would berate and demean him in front of his Board of Directors. It seems like half a lifetime ago, for Rufus it nearly is. He should have done something then, too fearful of his own position within Shinra to challenge the late President. He settles a hand against Rufus' shoulder. 'I'm--'</p><p> </p><p>'Get your hands off me.' It's practically a snarl as Rufus jerks away, his instinct is to bolt, and when Rufus moves to stand his legs buckle beneath him, leaving him sprawled on the floor. Reeve looks down at the former President. He's pitiable, blonde hair tumbling into light eyes; Rufus looks so very young, as if that boy of 16. He struggles to pull himself upright, and when he fails, he huddles against the wall like a trapped animal.</p><p> </p><p>'How could you be so cruel, look at me.'</p><p> </p><p>'And what would you have me do, Sir, now that you're still alive?' Reeve cannot force him to live, but he will not help him die. He stoops down then to lift Rufus and settles him back across the bed. 'What would Tseng think of you now?'</p><p> </p><p>'How dare you.'</p><p> </p><p>'You're behaving like an insolent child because someone dared to think your life was worth saving.'</p><p> </p><p>He's always had a soft spot for the Shinra kid, and it's too much to see him like this. He never would have thought Rufus Shinra might care so very much about the state of Midgar as to have wished to die alongside it. And when he leaves the room, Reeve questions for the first time if it might have been a mercy.</p><p> </p><p>Later, he'll regret the words. <em> Tseng. </em> It was not his place, and anyway, he doubts the dead concern themselves with the matters of the living.</p><p> </p><p>He visits Rufus less often after their altercation, unable to bear the sight of him.</p><p> </p><p>One afternoon later that week, he hears the sound of Rufus falling, the shouts of rage and despair, and knows they can't continue this way.</p><p> </p><p>He pushes open the door, unsurprised to find Rufus once more on the floor, and offers him a hand.  ‘You need to be patient, Sir.’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus takes it, allows Reeve to pull him to his feet, as he leans heavily against his form. ‘You will walk again, but it will take time.’ He makes a promise then that he will stay there with him, for as long as necessary. Rufus is his responsibility if only temporarily, he will help him recover as best he can, and then whatever Rufus choses to do with the life that Reeve has saved, is up to him.</p><p> </p><p>There is a subtle shift between them in the days that follow. Rufus is still hostile, and at the worst of times he closes himself off and stares out at the remains of what is left of the city he had been born to rule. When night falls, he can still see the glowing green of mako. It will take years for it to disperse entirely, and in a way he finds some comfort in that.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus settles against the pillows one night, staring out the open window at the stars above, and the city beyond, and thinks of Tseng. He’s never properly mourned, and now in the wake of everything, it seems a trivial thing. Tseng is one of many casualties lost. And this life, whatever he is to make of it, will be one without Tseng in it. It makes him feel lost in a strange way. For so very long Midgar has been his singular duty and want, and now that he has lost his city, and the only future he has ever known, the grief that he has ignored begins to claw at him. He closes his eyes and listens to the buzzing whine of insects, and the faint rustle of leaves, it’s everything that Midgar was not, maddening in its peaceful quiet.</p><p> </p><p>A knock at his door breaks him from his reverie, and he sits up abruptly. Reeve is silhouetted against the doorframe, a bottle of liquor in hand. ‘Join me for a nightcap?’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus smiles wanly in the darkness. Tuesti has had the foresight to keep the alcohol locked away, doling out rations as if Rufus were a prisoner, but on nights such as these, when their shared space becomes too quiet, he always comes to Rufus and asks him if he’d care to have a drink with him.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a bottle of bourbon, and the taste of it reminds him of Tseng. He doesn’t know where Reeve acquired it, but Rufus knows expensive whiskies.</p><p> </p><p>Reeve settles against the bed, pours them each a glass. He always toasts, to what Rufus cannot be certain. There’s little in the way of anything worth drinking to these days. But he lifts his glass, clinking it against the rim of Reeve’s, and takes a long drink of the amber liquid. He holds it in his mouth for a moment, oak and the faintest hint of burnt caramel. He thinks of the taste of it on Tseng’s tongue when he kissed him. He notices the way Reeve is staring at him, features illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through the open window, and for the briefest of moments wants.</p><p> </p><p>He takes a sip, and leans back. ‘Come here.’</p><p> </p><p>Reeve does.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus swallows another burning mouthful of liquor, as Reeve’s mouth closes over his own. He tastes enough like Tseng that Rufus aches, and arches upward into the touch, sighing softly at the scrape of his beard against his cheek as Reeve deepens the kiss. It is over bare moments later. Reeve hovers above him, dark brows knitted together.</p><p> </p><p>‘Don’t tell me you are already having regrets, Tuesti.’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus is about to make another quip, but the look in Reeve’s eyes is one of desire laced with deep concern, and something more than Rufus might mistake for sorrow.</p><p> </p><p>‘We shouldn’t have--’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus leans upward to capture Reeve’s lips once more, his free hand finding itself into short strands of hair. The unfamiliarity is almost a comfort. Reeve is nothing like Rufus knows, broader, taller, and for a moment he considers what might occur were he to let his body take control. It’s been too long, and the want and need and desire that pools between his legs makes him bolder. And when he feels the rock of Reeve’s hips against his own, his mouth parts in a moan.</p><p> </p><p>‘Do you want this, Sir?’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus looks up at Reeve, pupils blown with pure want. ‘Please.’</p><p> </p><p>There are hands then slipping beneath the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, reaching to take him in hand. And when Reeve wraps warm fingers around his cock, Rufus thrusts into the touch.</p><p> </p><p>It means nothing, he tells himself, it’s merely a release of tension, and when he comes with a shuddering release he has to bite back Tseng’s name. Reeve kisses him again, tenderly, lips brushing against his eyelid, and temple, and brow.</p><p> </p><p>‘Do you feel better?’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus smiles weakly in the darkness, and props himself up, lifting the half empty glass from the nightstand and taking a long drink. ‘I suppose I should thank you.’</p><p> </p><p>Reeve laughs a little then at that. ‘I don’t know if anyone’s ever thanked me for a quick handjob, Sir.’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus reaches out as if to repay the favour in kind, when Reeve denies him with a simple shake of his head. ‘I can take care of that later.’ Rufus notices the way he seems to study him with dark eyes. ‘You won’t be honest with me, I’ve accepted that, but I do hope life doesn’t seem so bleak.’ He dares to reach out to take Rufus’ hand in his own, thumb smoothing over the line of a scar. He’s just jerked off the former President of Shinra, there’s little else that scares him now. ‘You saved Midgar.’</p><p> </p><p>Rufus looks at him, eyes nearly unreadable.</p><p> </p><p>‘You keep thinking you’ve failed, Sir. But all those people, none of them know what you did.’ He squeezes Rufus’ hand then, and looks away.</p><p> </p><p>Rufus seems to take Reeve’s words somewhat to heart, and as the weeks span out before them, he begins to acclimate to this new reality. One that is so very different from the one that he has always known, but Rufus Shinra is nothing if not adaptable. And when he finally regains his ability to walk, he begins to make plans for a new future, a brighter one, to rebuild from the ashes of his fallen empire.</p><p> </p><p>One afternoon Reeve returns to their shared home with news that he has seen a Shinra helicopter here in Kalm, Elena. It gives Rufus hope that the others might have survived the end of the world. And with that comes a decision. He cannot impose on the former Director of Urban Development’s hospitality any longer. He packs a small overnight bag with what few personal effects he still keeps.</p><p> </p><p>Reeve finds him there in the late afternoon shadows of his room, no longer dressed in white, but the colour of mourning, for Rufus will forever be a man bereaved.</p><p> </p><p>He hesitates, takes in the sight of him there in the golden light, and wonders when his fondness of Rufus Shinra has become something a bit more. And he harbours a hope that they might rebuild the world together. 'Where will you go?' Reeve wants to ask him to stay.</p><p> </p><p>'Junon. The world doesn't want me.'</p><p> </p><p>Reeve knows he intends to imprison himself there once more, to fund any reclamation projects from afar in quiet anonymity. 'You don't have to be alone.'</p><p> </p><p>'It’s all I know.'</p><p> </p><p>And when Rufus offers him a soft smile and extends his hand in thanks, Reeve wishes they might have had this under different circumstances, not better, simply different, where Rufus might free himself of the shackles of his self perceived failures, and the lingering ghosts of a past from which he might never escape.</p><p> </p><p>He watches as Rufus boards the transport helicopter, pausing to glance back only once. The sting in his eyes has nothing to do with the brilliance of the setting sun. He stands there for a long while, until the helicopter vanishes beyond the horizon, as the last of twilight slips away casting the world into darkness, and begins to hope for a new dawn.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fin </em>
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